


A Beautiful Dream

by unabashedcandymaker



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-28
Updated: 2015-12-28
Packaged: 2018-05-10 01:01:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5562715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unabashedcandymaker/pseuds/unabashedcandymaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reader wakes up in a world outside of the regular Supernatural unsure of where she's at or how it happened.  Things are not as they seem as she tries to figure out what's happening.  In this dream world, you're married to Dean with a child.  What kind of dream or delusion is this?  Do you even really want to wake up?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A small sliver of sunlight shining on your face is what initially woke you up. It took a few seconds for confusion to finally set in. There were no windows in the bunker for the sunlight to shine through and you were about 97 percent positive that is where you fell asleep, safely tucked away in your cozy bed. You blinked the sleep out of your eyes and immediately noticed the tacky floral wallpaper on the walls. You’re body suddenly at full attention when you realize with absolute certainty that you are not in the comfort of your home.

Quietly and slowly, you start to look at your surroundings. There was nothing familiar about this room. At least you appeared to be alone. With the sun shining and the birds chirping outside the window, it was hard to not to relax. There was something rather homey about this place. The tacky wallpaper looked like something Dean had tried convincing you to hang in your room of the bunker. The quilt that covered the bed looked like one your grandmother had quilted when you were a child. You must be dreaming.

After throwing back the blankets, you pushed yourself out of the bed and slowly stretched your tired muscles. Quiet as a mouse, you tip toed your way out of the bedroom. The smell of honey and cinnamon rolls assaulted your nostrils and you all of a sudden realized you were completely famished. It almost felt like you hadn’t eaten in weeks. Picking up the pace a bit, you followed the smell down the short hallway and into a warm and inviting kitchen.

You first noticed a man with his back turned towards you. The dark blonde hair, the broad, muscular shoulders and the beautiful, strong back leading down to some deliciously bowed-legs looked dead on like Dean, but that couldn’t be right. Sure, Dean had made more than a few appearances in your dreams before, but this was slightly too good to be true.

Almost as if he could hear your thoughts, the man standing in front of the stove turned to face you to reveal it was in fact Dean, spatula in hand, and smiling broadly at you.

“Good morning, momma.” He strode across the kitchen to where you stood in the doorway and gave you a soft peck on your forehead. “I was starting to think you were going to sleep through breakfast.” His smile only widened as he turned back to the food he had cooking on the stove top.

Momma? What the hell was he talking about? It was then that you heard a beautiful little giggle coming from the most gorgeous, green-eyed little girl sitting on the counter not far from where Dean was cooking. Her face has spots of flour and her hands were covered in something sticky, obviously from helping Dean prepare breakfast. 

“Mommy!” the little girl squealed as she clapped happily. “Mommy! Mommy! Mommy’s up! Me and Daddy are making breakfast! Daddy says I’m his special little helper!”

There was something about the soft chiming of the little girl’s voice that made you want to cry, in the happiest way. The tone of it struck something deep inside that filled your heart till it felt like it would burst. It was completely unfamiliar and nearly overwhelming as a tear slid down your cheek. Why the hell were you crying?

You wiped quickly at it, hoping Dean wouldn’t notice, but of course you’d never be that lucky. He looked back to you just in time to see you dry your red, puffy eyes. 

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Is it the hormones getting the best of you again? I swear I think this time you are more sensitive than when you were pregnant with Charlotte.” Dean walked up to you again with a beautiful softness in his eyes. His hand that wasn’t holding the spatula came up to rub your belly. You looked down to see your middle had been oddly out of proportion. It was almost painfully distended out from your body. 

Holy shit. You were pregnant. Dean’s hand rubbed back and forth gently over the side of your swollen middle. You noticed a gold ring on his third finger. When you reached out to place your hand over his, you saw a matching ring on your left hand.

Holy shit! Not only was the man of your dreams making you breakfast in this beautiful dream house with a gorgeous little girl sitting on the counter helping, he was the father of your children. As if this dream couldn’t get any more life-like, the baby inside your belly gave a vicious kick, causing you to take in a sharp breath. Dean continued to rub your belly; now in the spot he just felt the kick, like he was trying to soothe your pain.

“Come on little man; give your poor momma a break. It won’t be too much longer till you’ll be stuck out here with the rest of us.” Dean smirked as he planted a sweet kiss on the top of your head. “If you wanna go lay back in bed, Charlie and I can bring you breakfast.” He looked down at you with bright, sparkling green eyes. He looked so much younger than how you remembered him back in the ‘real world’. The weariness, the guarded looks, the scars on his face; they were all gone. His freckled were now on prominent display with nothing marring his beautiful features. It looked like he had never hunted a day in his life.

After only a couple seconds of debate with yourself, your face broke into a smile. Why not just go along with this bizarre dream world you had slipped into? How often were you going to get to live in domestic bliss with Dean Winchester? What other time would he look down on you like this, like you were the only woman in the whole entire world; like you were every single one of his dreams come true? How many times have you longed for this kind of life with Dean? How many nights had you gone to bed alone wishing Dean were by your side, keeping you warm? Now, somehow, you’ve woken up into the best dream of your entire life and Dean Winchester is your husband. 

“I think I’ll stay and watch the show if you don’t mind.” Your voice cracked slightly as you tried to smile, overjoyed. Both Dean and the curly haired angel that still sat on the counter beamed at you.

“Yay Mommy!” she cheered, clapping her hands again.

“Yay Mommy!” Dean echoed with enthusiasm as he turned towards the stove again.

You crossed to the other side of the counter and took a seat in the bar stool with slight difficulty. Moving around and maneuvering with this huge, pregnant belly was going to take some getting used to. There was a rolling sensation inside your stomach that caused you to quickly clutch your middle and take a deep breath. It brought back a strange sense of déjà vu. Almost as if you had a dream like this before. Suddenly, fuzzy memories seeped back and you could almost see Dean curled around you in bed with a large belly; you were now in a hospital all sweaty and swollen as Dean held your hand as he urged you to push; then you heard the piercing cry of a baby from Dean’s arms as he turned to you with tears in your eyes, introducing you to your daughter Charlie for the first time.

When you looked up, Dean was looking as you as if he were waiting for an answer.

“I’m sorry, what?” you quickly snapped back to the present and gave your head a short shake to clear it.

“I was just asking if maybe we should call Sammy and reschedule the playdate.” Dean was starting to show concern at your absentmindedness.

“Oh, it must be this pregnancy brain getting the best of me this morning.” How did you know anything about pregnancy brain? Now, dream-like memories of all the pregnancy books you’d read came flooding back; memories of symptoms from the past months; of complaining about growing out of your clothes and Dean laughing about the trivial nonsense and whispering how beautiful every inch of your body is. Warmth flowed through you from the happiness of this life you’d woken up into. “So, playdate?” you asked.

“Yeah, Sammy and Jess were gonna bring Johnny over to play with Charlie today. Jess has some boy clothes of Johnny’s she was bringing for him.” He answered as he gestured to your bulging belly. “But if you aren’t feeling up for it, we can reschedule.”

“No, not at all!” You answered perhaps a little too loudly, clearly a little too overenthusiastic, causing both Dean and Charlie to look up at you. Charlie started giggling.

“Momma’s funny today!” Charlie kept giggling. You watched the toddler crawl across the counter in her pjs and a tutu and down into the chair. She looked up at you with those eyes that looked exactly like Dean’s, framed in the same thick lashes. She reached down to run her tiny hands over your belly. “Do I really have to have a brother? I like it just me and momma and daddy.” She pouted slightly.

“Princess, how about you go get your hands washed up before we eat.” Dean answered as he turned the burners on the stove off and moved the food to the counter.

Charlie bounded off the chair and towards the bathroom, skipping the whole way. Dean beamed proudly at his little girl. How on earth did you get so lucky? Your gaze followed Dean’s as you both watched the head of curly blond hair bounce around the corner and out of view. Dean moved around the counter and laid his forehead gently against yours as both his hands moved in soothing circles on your stretched stomach.

“I’ll tell you one thing; I can’t wait for Charlie’s sleepover with Sam and Jess tonight. I’ve waited too long to have you on my own again.” Dean growled as his hands moved up to cup your sensitive breasts. One hand kneaded one breast as the other took your nipple between his fingers and pinched with the most delicious pressure. A gasp escaped your lips just in time for Dean to swallow it in his mouth as he moved down to capture your lips with his. Desire shot straight between your legs as wetness leaked through to your panties. You pulled Dean as close to your body as possible, but couldn’t get close enough because of the belly.

He broke the kiss and pulled away only far enough to rest his forehead against yours again. He was panting as he moved his hands to stroke up and down your sides. “As much as I love the way your body responds while you’re pregnant, I am looking forward to being with you completely alone. It’s not as easy to do what I want with my little man in there.” He kept stroking your sides.

“I can’t wait to have him out too.” You responded as you felt an uncomfortable weight on your pelvis, making your core feel as if at any minute you would split in two.

“Any day now, he will be here and you’ll finally be able to eat meat again.” Dean’s eyes twinkled as he looked down on you, reminding you of your sensitivity to the smell of meat. It looked like he was more excited than you to be able to have meat in the house again, foregoing it altogether since the smell started making you throw up. He ducked his head to give you a sweet kiss on the lips as you heard Charlie come bounding back down the hallway. 

You shared one last gaze with Dean, when you felt a breeze out of seemingly nowhere and a faint whisper you couldn’t quite understand. You checked around for an open window or a radio that might have been left on. Finding nothing you turned back to Dean who was still staring down at you adoringly. 

“Wake up,” something blew into your ear.

You whipped your head around, trying to find what made the noise. It sounded close, but it was so faint, you must have misheard it.

“Wake up,” the whisper sounded closer this time, a breeze ghosting over your skin.

“Did you hear that?” You asked Dean as you kept whipping your head around in search for anything that might explain the noise.

“Hear what?” Dean started looking around for what you might have heard.

“Wake up,” the whisper sounded like it was moving away from you now, the last half of the statement being muffled over the sound of your own breathing.

“That! You didn’t hear it?” You looked back up to Dean in hopes that maybe you weren’t losing your mind.

“I didn’t hear anything, sweetheart. Are you sure you’re feeling alright?” The concern on Dean’s face was sincere and gentle. He didn’t dismiss your concern; he was only concerned with how you felt. As if the baby could sense your unease, he gave a gentle nudge from inside, and in this moment you decided to let it go. You gently stroked your baby through your shirt, and then raised your hands to Dean’s face. You pulled him down to your face and gave him one more sweet kiss. 

“Ew! Gross!” Charlie squealed as she watched her mommy kiss her daddy in the middle of the kitchen.

Dean laughed as he turned around and scooped up the toddler as her squeals turned into endless giggles. You laughed along at the sweet sight before you. Why knock a good thing? Somehow you had woken up inside your biggest fantasy. You decided to stop questioning it.

You felt a gentle breeze against your face again. Instead of investigating it further, you shook your head and moved to the dining room table where Dean was preparing the breakfast plates. As you took a seat between Dean and Charlie, you smiled at your little family. 

This time, the ghostly whisper went unheard.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The unfamiliar voice you heard before returns. Explains how you and Dean had first met.

The afternoon found you sitting outside on your back porch with your adoring husband, his brother and sister-in-law; all of you watching Charlie and Johnny playing in a tree house Dean built for Charlies’ second birthday. You were comfortably reclined with your feet propped up on a foot rest, sipping some lemonade while Dean and Sam were telling stories from their childhood.

“He was dressed up like Batman and jumped off the shed because he thought he could fly!” Dean finished with a laugh, throwing his head back.

“Only after you jumped first!” Sam defended himself, but a wide smile spread across his face.

“Hey! I was 9 and dressed up like Superman. Everyone knows that Batman can’t fly.”

“I didn’t! I broke my arm!” 

“I know you did. I drove you to the ER on my handle bars.”

Both brothers shared a happy smile.

“I’m surprised both of you survived through childhood.” Jess managed to say after she finally stopped laughing.

“Oh, we were lucky to survive Mom when she got the call from the ER nurse.” Sam said, looking just slightly more somber.

Dean stopped laughing, remembering what was sure to be a not so pleasant memory. “Or how about when Dad finally showed up?”

Sam frowned for only a second before he shook the memory from his head. “It’s amazing how mom and dad were able to survive our childhood, with everything we put them through.”

Dean looked at Charlie and John playing happily across the yard. “You don’t think they will give us the kind of trouble we gave our parents, do you?” Dean looked to Sam for an answer.

After a moment of thoughtful silence, you were the one who spoke up, “They are Winchesters so I’m sure they are gonna raise some hell. It’s in their blood, after all.”

Dean looked loving at you, like you made him the luckiest man on earth. How did you ever deserve to have the man of your dreams look at you like this? Like he was a man dying of thirst and you were cool, refreshing pitcher of water. When he finally spoke again, it pulled you back to the conversation.

“As long as we are taking a trip down memory lane, do you remember the night we first met?” Dean looked to you with a twinkle in his eye, as if he thought of some secret joke..

You tried to think back and suddenly a memory, brighter than the others you’d had since you’d woke up, started to play before your eyes. The two of you were chatting together at a college party Dean and his friends were throwing. A friend having grudgingly convinced you into attending with her and then promptly bailing as soon as you both walked through the door so the rest of the night you sulked in the corner with a solo cup of beer always in your hand; that was until Dean sat down next to you, trying to start a conversation. You tried your damnedest to stay surly, completely intent on not enjoying yourself; that was until you looked up into those beautiful eyes shining with genuine interest. It wasn’t long after that till the two of you were out on the deck sharing stories and tell jokes, anything to make the other laugh. In that moment it felt as if you’d known Dean his entire life. You could already picture what your future would look like together. 

‘Whatta Man’ by Salt –N- Peppa started blaring from the speakers and Dean’s face started beaming. People started pouring out onto the deck and started dancing with each other. 

“Do you wanna dance?” Dean asked as he held out his hand to you expectantly.

A furious blush spread across your face just thinking about how embarrassingly awkward your dancing skills were. Dean seemed to notice immediately and lowered his hand and turned away. You thought you’d completely blown your chances with him, this wonderful, hilarious, sweet, gorgeous man because you couldn’t bring yourself to swallow your pride to dance with him.

Dean sat his cup on the banister and turned back to you. He started walking towards you again with some mysterious glint in those mesmerizing eyes. He backed you up until you fell into a chair, your mouth agape. He took your drink from your hand and set it off to the side. He stood before you, a giant smirk on his chiseled face. He slowly started swaying his hips side to side with the beat. His hands moved slowly up to the top of his chest and started unbuttoning his long sleeve plaid, exposing the collar of a tee shirt he was wearing underneath. 

You’re not sure what made you start laughing, but it didn’t break Dean’s concentration. The look on his face was serious as he let the shirt fall from his arms down onto the floor. A crowd started to form around the two of you, but Dean didn’t seem to mind; it looked like he felt no shame or embarrassment dancing like this in front of all these people he didn’t know. He only had eyes for you.

He leaned down, placing both his hands on the arms of your chair, pushing his chest towards your face and started rolling his hips against your lap. His jeans grazing against your bare skin felt like fire brushing against you, the knee-length hem of your dress being pushed up with every one of his strokes. As soon as you started laughing, you stopped, suddenly feeling a fire building between your legs.

Dean was putting on quite a show, being as seductive a he possible could. He straightened himself up again and while still rolling his hips, he began to slowly pull the hem of his tee shirt up and exposed his torso. When the shirt was up around his chest, exposing just one of his nipples, he suddenly stopped and turned towards the crowd. 

“If you want to keep watching, I’m gonna require you tip me first.” Dean announced loudly to the onlookers, stepping in front of you to block you from their gaze. He began laughing with the crowd before turning back to you again, holding out a hand to help you up from your chair. The laughter faded from his lips but never quite left his eyes. His bright smile was a talisman you would learn to cling to every single day. 

This also ended up being the first night you spent with Dean, making love until the sun blazed through his windows the next morning; then to find him curled around you, snoring softly.

You finally snapped back to the present to see Dean still looking at you with that same laughter in his eyes as the first night you met. He still looked like that same 20-something boy who made a spectacle of himself to save you from feeling awkward or embarrassed. 

“Hmm, seems to be kinda familiar…” you trailed off, giving him a wink before taking another sip of your lemonade.

“How dare you! That was the best performance I’ve given anyone my entire life!” He looked at you shocked. He rose quickly from his chair and stood in front of you, starting to unbutton the shirt he had on. He started rolling his hips as a wild laugh burst through your chest. “I’ll be damned if I’m gonna let you pretend that you don’t remember that night.” He reached down to grab both your hands and pulled you up to stand in front of him. 

Sam and Jess were laughing freely now, clearly enjoying the show. Dean pulled you close to him as he shimmied and danced against you, clearly going all out for the sake of their company. That was, until you felt a cramp seize through your lower belly, causing you to clutch at it while sagging against Dean.

Dean immediately froze and wrapped both arms around you to steady you. 

“What’s wrong?” He questioned, gently lowering you to your chair so you could sit comfortable. He was on his knees in front of you, his hands now on top of yours. Sam and Jess wore somber looks as they sat on the edge of their seats.

“It’s just a cramp.” You tried to assure Dean. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” Your hand came out from under his to stroke his face gently. “Our little man is probably just anxious to get out.”

Dean looked slightly relieved when he saw you smiling at him.

“I think I’m just gonna head to the bathroom.” You said as held out both your hands, expecting Dean to pull you to your feet again. And he didn’t disappoint you. As soon as you held out your hands, he grasped both firmly and stood, bringing you up with him. He wrapped his arms around you and gave you a soft kiss to the top of your head before he let you go.

“Do you want me to come with you?” His concern was still apparent even though he was trying to act nonchalant.

“I think I can manage this bit on my own.” You smiled at him again before waddling back into the house and towards the bathroom.

You closed and locked the door after entering the bathroom. You grabbed a washcloth from a drawer in the sink, soaked it with cold water and started dabbing your face with it. The coolness against your skin seemed to relieve some tension you were aware of until it was gone. You looked up to the mirror to see your tired eyes reflecting back at you. You hadn’t seemed to look in a mirror since you woke up until now. Your face was brighter than before. All the scars marring your face, neck, arms, everywhere, they were gone. The worry lines in your brow were gone, only to be replaced by laugh lines that crinkled in the corner of your eyes and mouth.

An image suddenly appeared before your eyes, not quite like a hallucination, but like you were seeing something through someone else’s’ eyes. It looked like flashes of somewhere old and dirty and wet. First it looked like a garage, but the more you saw, the more you could tell about the room. The concrete floors, the open ceilings revealing old metal rafters, chains and ropes hanging from posts all around the cold dank room; you were in an abandoned warehouse.

You heard a familiar voice whisper next to you, “Y/N, wake up!” You tried to move your head to the side to see who was talking but found it impossible, feeling as if your skull had been emptied and refilled with lead. Your head was propped sideways against your arm that was tied to a post above your head. Pain started to permeate every inch of your body the longer you stood there. You tried to lift your gaze, but all you managed to do was shift your head until it fell down, your chin hitting your chest. Now all you could see was your booted feet barely grazing the floor.

“Y/N, can you hear me?” There’s that voice again. It sounded tired and frail this time, unlike the whisper you were hearing before. All you could really tell about it was that it was masculine. You tried moving your head sideways again, towards the voice, but the pain and stiffness caused you to whimper. “It’s a Djinn, Y/N. You need to wake up. Everything you’re seeing, it’s just a dream.”

You whimpered, unable to form an intelligent word. There was a rustle to your side and a bright blue glow, and then the voice that had been talking to you was silent. Suddenly a man with tattoos covering his face, neck and arms appeared in front of you. His eyes started glowing bright blue as he raised his hand to swipe across your forehead and your vision went black.

You woke up again on the bathroom floor, Dean hovering over you. “Y/N, can you hear me?” He asked as his hand cupped your face.

You blinked a couple times, staring up into eyes blazing with concern.

“Dean?” You looked questioningly up at him. “Why am I on the floor? What happened?” You tried to remember the flashes you saw, the warehouse, the familiar voice, but it was starting to blur and fade to the back of your mind.

“I was hoping you could tell me sweetheart. I got worried about you being gone too long and when I knocked on the door you didn’t answer. I panicked and broke the damn thing down to find you here on the floor. Maybe we should get you to the doctor to make sure everything’s ok.” Dean put his hands under your arms and gently pulled you up to your feet. “I’ll ask Sam if he and Jess can stay here with Charlie while we go get you checked out. I don’t want to take any chances so close to your due date.”

“Dean, I feel fine now.” You tried to shake off his concern, but he was having none of it. He sat you gently on the sink of the bathroom with strict instructions not to move until he came back. It took only a couple minutes for him to talk to Sam before he was back to your side with an overnight bag flung over his shoulder. 

“Ok sweetheart, let’s go.” Dean put his hands on your waist and helped you slide down to your feet. You put your hands on his shoulders and looked up to him. As you raised yourself to your tip toes, he bent down to kiss you on the lips. You kissed for only a minute before he pulled himself away, breathless. “Y/N, the things you do to me, the way you make me feel, it should be illegal to have this much control over me.” He said lovingly before planting another kiss to your forehead.

He offered you his arm to hold as he guided you out of the house and to the driveway. As you slipped somewhat awkwardly into the passenger seat of your jeep, you couldn’t believe how lucky you were. The star of your fantasies was worrying over you as if you were the most precious thing in the world to him. He treated you like the sun shines out of your ass. I mean, hell, he loved you so much he chose to spend the rest of his life with you; he thought you were so amazing that he chose you, out of every other woman in the world, to be the mother of his children. The incident in the bathroom was all but forgotten by the time Dean pulled up to the hospital emergency entrance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some sweet, sweet smut with your beautiful husband Dean and another vision that could cause this dream to come crashing down around you

The ride back home was quiet and peaceful. Dean held your hand the whole drive, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of your knuckles. Your head was lolling to the side, your check pressed against the seat belt, completely exhausted from the amount of tests the doctors ran to see what caused your fainting spell.

They ruled out all of the obvious causes and eliminated even the more uncommon ones. You were packed up and sent home well after midnight with a diagnosis of low blood sugar and careful instructions to be more cautious of what and how often you eat. Dean seemed to feel lighter with the prognosis and was humming softly as he looked out to the road. The sweet melody and bass of his voice lulled you into an easy sleep. Before you realized it, he was pulling you up from the passenger seat and carrying you into the empty house; Charlie having gone to spend the night with Sam and Jess.

Thinking you were still sleeping, he carefully maneuvered through the dark rooms until he finally placed you softly on top of the bed. He removed your shoes and tried to remove your sweater before grudgingly pushing yourself up to help make the job easier.

“Hey sleeping beauty. How are you feeling?” He whispered softly to you as he pulled the sweater from your arms.

“I feel good, just tired. Who would imagine lying in a bed while being poked and prodded at all evening could completely drain someone?” Your sweater and shirt had been discarded and Dean pushed gently on your shoulders till you were lying on your back, making it easier for him to pull your pants down your legs. You were lying bare except for your bra and panties. 

Dean looked appraisingly down at you before he started stripping off his own clothes. As soon as he shucked his pants across the room, he was hovering over top of you, his legs parting yours, his hands on either side of your head as he lowered his face to yours. His plump lips slid gracefully across yours.

“Why did such a beautiful, wonderful woman settle down with an ugly bastard like me?” He asked with a smile in his voice. He kissed slowly down your cheek, down your jaw, finding that sweet spot behind your ear that he knew drove you absolutely insane.

It took you a few seconds to catch your breath, before you could huff out, “I have really low standards.” He laughed against your skin briefly before continuing his journey down your neck, your chest, and lower. His lips rested on top of your swollen stomach. His hands were rubbing on the sides of your belly as he whispered softly to the bump. 

“Secrets don’t make friends.” You spoke up, teasing Dean.

“I was just telling my son that I’m insanely jealous he gets to live inside of you.” You could hear his smile before he kept kissing lower down your belly until he reached the top of your panty line. Dean pulled back only enough to tug the material down your legs. He looked up to see you panting, already out of breath. “Are up for this tonight, sweetheart?”

“Don’t stop.” You gasped as your hands gripped the comforter beneath you as if you didn’t hold on for dear life, you’d float away.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He lowered himself between your legs. His scruff scratched its way across your thighs, sending shivers through your body. Dean trailed kisses from your knee up to the top and down the other side. By the time he started his journey back up, you were moaning out his name. He settled his tongue between your folds and lavished that special bundle of nerves with so much enthusiasm that you came so violently, your vision went white. You couldn’t feel anything but pure white hot bliss course through your veins, consuming everything. The sensation was so intense you were sure by the time you finally came down there would be nothing left but a smoldering pile of ash where you were lying.

Slowly, you began to feel your extremities again; the feeling coming back slowly. When you could feel your core again, you felt Dean’s tongue still lapping between your folds. You stretched your arm down until your hand was tangled in his hair. The dark blonde strands were soft and silky against your fingers. His tongue continued to work restlessly against your clit, pushing you forward into another orgasm. He shifted slightly until one of his hands teased a path between your legs. His deft fingers worked between your folds, until one finger started to slowly push inside of you. It was buried knuckle deep when you felt that familiar warmth building you higher and higher and higher again. He slipped in a second finger, working them in just the right motion that caused waves upon waves of sensation to crash over you once more. You were coming and coming and coming until all other thoughts had faded away.

Your voice was low and cracked as you were panting for relief. The pleasure had become too much; to the point where it was on the verge of being painful. Slowly, your climax started to fade. You were aware of Dean moving over you. His weight shifted on top of you and you could feel him settle down gently against you. His mouth started planting soft, sweet kisses against your lips, one arm holding his weight off of you while his other caressed every inch of your skin he could touch.

You opened your eyes to find his staring down intently at you. You could feel his thick member prodding against your entrance. Ever so slowly, he positioned himself so that the head of his cock was teasing the entrance of your opening. You had never felt anything so intense in your life. He pushed in just a little further and you could feel yourself stretch around his girth. He was unlike anyone you could ever remember being with before. His gaze kept holding yours, intently watching for any sign of discomfort. He pulled back slightly only to push in just a little further. Your eyes widened momentarily as you finally started to realize how big he really was. 

Sweat had started to form across his brow. His voice was ragged when he spoke, “You will never understand how good it feels to finally be inside of you. You’ll never know how warm and tight you fell around me. I don’ want this to ever end.” He pulled back and pushed further in again. He was over halfway in when your hands pulled on his lower back and he thrusted sharply into you as he hit your cervix. You let out a soft cry at the sudden intrusion.

His eyes were worriedly seeking yours as you let them roll into the back of your head. Never in your life had you ever felt so full and complete before. Dean Winchester was made just for you, for this blissful act. It felt sinful to be able to enjoy such decadent pleasure. 

He stilled himself until you opened your eyes again. His worried expression slowly faded as he felt your walls start to quiver around him. Your hands pushing and pulling at him until he finally started a slow, gentle pace. Your body felt like it was going to be split in two, but only in the most delicious way. The overwhelming sense of fullness was almost enough to send you screaming towards your next climax. You tried to hold it off; you wanted this feeling to last as long as possible. You wanted to revel in this state of completeness forever. He started thrusting quicker now, his hips snapping against your pelvis. 

“I know you’ve got another one in there for me baby. Just let it go. I can feel you shaking around me. Come with me. I’m so close.” Dean’s voice alone was enough to tip you over the edge; spiraling down, down, down, down and crashing into an ocean of crashing waves and pulling currents. You were lost in a world of thrashing, wild emotions; all the while, Dean whispering sweet ‘I love you’s’ and ‘so beautiful’ and other wonderful nothings. It wasn’t long before you felt his sporadic thrusts and then a couple shallow slow ones; then you could feel his warm release deep inside you.

Your breaths were harsh as you both fought to control them. His skin was hot and sticky against yours. This was undoubtedly why you were already on baby number two. The way he always lavished you with attention and love and adoration; the way he always made sure you knew you were the center of his entire universe; it was more than any woman could ever hope for in their entire lives. It brought back a faint memory of him gently tucking your hair behind your ear while chanting how beautiful and radiant and breath-taking you were after 30 plus hours into labor with your daughter.

His forehead was resting on your neck, your hands gently stroking his back when his cellphone started to ring. He gave you a lazy kiss and begrudgingly pulled away from you. You hissed slightly as he pulled out of you warranting a look of sympathy from Dean before he rolled out of bed. You dressed quickly before crawling back in bed and let your eyes close, succumbing to the weight that had settled throughout your body; suddenly feeling dead tired. You could hear a deep voice mumbling through Dean’s phone as he disappeared into the closet; emerging only a minute later completely dressed.

You didn’t even bother to open your eyes when he started talking softly to you, “That was Sammy. Charlie had a nightmare and wants to come home. I’m going to go pick her up. I’ll be back before you know it.” He kissed your temple softly and you faded into a peaceful sleep.

You weren’t sure how long Dean had been gone when you were woken by a nightmare. You sat straight up in bed, panting, sweating, and trying to remember the beastly monster with glowing blue eyes that woke you. You lied back down slowly, forcing yourself to remember a dream of a dream; the blue eyes haunting you in the darkness. As soon as you closed your eyes, you were seeing the image of the concrete floor you saw earlier. Everything else but this imagery had faded away. 

Your head was hanging low; your chin was resting against your chest. Your eyes were open, staring blankly at your boots; the tips of which were gliding across the concrete, barely touching it. You could hear a shuffle beside you. You tried to shift sideways to get a good look at what was happening. All you could manage to see were two sets of boots, one dangling over the floor like yours and another standing opposite of them. 

“Dean, hold still, I’m gonna cut you down. On the count of three. You ready? One, two…” you could hear a blade cutting through thick rope before you heard a body crumple to the floor. There was a lot of shifting and grunting before warm hands cupped your face and raised it to look you in the eyes. You were met with soft, hazel eyes filled with worry. His touch was uncomfortably warm against your cool face. “Y/N, can you hear me?”

You tried to answer but all that came out was a wheeze that burned your throat. Sam let go of your face and let your head drop down against your chest. He seemed to be pulling on the ropes that held you up. He reached for his knife when you heard a crash across the room. Dean was flying across the room by an unseen force; the monster was back.

“Y/N, you have to stay awake. Don’t go back to sleep. It’s a Djinn. Whatever you’re seeing, it’s not real.” Sam hurried with your ropes again but as soon as he raised his arms to try again, he was flung across the room like Dean, crumpling into a heap in a pile of cardboard boxes.

The monster walked slowly across the room, every foot step sent a shiver of dread down your spine. You whimpered at the monster, silently begging him not to send you back to that dream world he created for you. You moaned softly as his hand stroked your forehead and your vision went black.

You’re eyes snapped back open, but you didn’t realize it at first because everything around you was dark. It wasn’t until you felt your baby nudge you softly from inside you as if he too were pulling you back to this reality. The alarm clock read 1:24 a.m. You shifted slightly and felt a small warm body pressed against your back. You turned as gently as possible to be met with the most beautiful image; your daughter was facing you, her head had been tucked safely into your back while her legs were spread out across Dean’s stomach. He was lying on his back, his arm lay protectively over her legs; both of them sound asleep.

You stared at the sight of them snoozing, tears starting to pool in your eyes. You couldn’t remember exactly why you were sad as you wiped away a couple stray tears.

That was, until images and flashes of glowing blue eyes, dirty warehouse; and then an image of Sam flying through the air. Your breath caught in your throat, feeling almost as if it were trying to choke you. 

Suddenly it felt as if a tidal wave completely consumed you, everything was flipping and turning upside down, inside out, and sideways. The voice urging you to wake up had clearly been Dean; the flashes you were having were images of reality seeping into your dream. Oh god, this is just a dream. None of this is real. This life you were living with your babies and your husband, it was all just a dream. You started to feel like you were suffocating. 

No, no, no, no, no, no. No, you wanted this to be real. You needed this to be your reality.

You climbed gently out of bed and headed for the kitchen. Suddenly all the memories you had of your past here were fading away and morphing into other memories, of being a teenager and looking down at your parent’s graves, of fighting monsters, getting beaten half to death by evil baddies, of a lonely miserable life with the Winchesters. All the happy memories were being washed away and replaced by turmoil and anguish. The depression was crippling. You choked out a small sob.

Panic started flaring up inside of you at the thought of losing this life. It might have been a dream, but it was your dream and you wanted to cling to it with every fiber of your being. Rationally, you knew what the right answer would be; you had to go back to the other world, your other miserable, pathetic life filled with monsters and demons and blood and pain. Your heart, on the other hand, pleaded to stay.  
It made what you knew you had to do so much harder.

You looked around the kitchen, the very same room where your husband, Dean Winchester, cooked you breakfast with the help of your daughter. Tears started streaming down your face as you rounded the counter and headed straight to the supply closet where you knew you’d find Dean’s collection of hunting knives and machetes he inherited from his father. You reached for the handle of a large blade and ran out the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have an internal struggle, deciding whether you are going to stay here and live the rest of your life in this fantasy, or wake up in the real word and leave everything you've ever wanted.

You looked down to the hunting blade clutched tightly in your shaking hand then back out into the empty sky. Anger was filling every ounce of your being. Nothing about this was fair.

“I deserve this! I deserve to have a family to love! I’ve given everything I’ve got to this job; EVERYTHING! I’ve had to give up everything I’ve ever wanted just to save this world and what do I get in return? NOTHING!” You started screaming to the heavens to a God you were sure had stopped listening long ago. “Why can’t I keep this?” You whimpered; tears were starting to fall from your eyes. “Don’t I deserve to have children and a husband? Doesn’t Dean deserve to live a full, normal life and die of old age instead of at the claws of some monster? Why can’t we have this? WHY CAN’T WE JUST BE HAPPY?” You’d fallen to your knees in the wet, cold grass. The blade was still shaking in your fist.

Dean had appeared beside you, kneeling down to wrap his arms around your shoulders. You looked to him with tears spilling freely onto your lap. He gave you a sad, sweet smile as he tried to comfort you. “This could be real. This could be the life you’ve always wanted. We could be happy together, Y/N. I can make you so happy.” His voice was sweet and gentle in your ear. His skin felt so warm against yours. In moments like this, it would be easy to keep pretending when it felt this good to be wrapped snuggly in his arms.

“But Dean, this isn’t real. My real body is out there somewhere in the real world, slowly dying. So is yours.” Your tears fell to the ground, taking pieces of your broken heart with you. “The real you, the real Sam, they need me.”

“Y/N, nobody needs you more than I need you. Nobody is going to need you more than our daughter needs you.” Dean moved to kneel in front of you, raising one hand to your face to lift your chin so he could look straight into your eyes. His other hand had moved down to softly stroke your belly. “Nobody is going to need you more than this baby that’s living inside of you. Let this be real, Y/N. Live this life with me. Grow old with me.” His words were so tempting and for just a minute, you let yourself pretend again that this could be your life. “The other Dean, and the other Sam, they won’t ever need you like we do. Your family is here with me.”

Dean lowered his face to yours; his soft warm lips finding yours. The kiss was everything you’d ever wanted. In this moment you could see a gray haired Dean sitting beside you on a front porch swing, watching your grandchildren play on a swing set and swinging from low hanging tree branches; you could hear their laughter drift around your bodies like a warm breeze; you could feel love, like warmth from the bright sunshine on a hot July afternoon. Your angry tears transformed to pitiful, heartbroken tears. Your kiss was broken by the sobs wracking through your body. You openly cried loud ugly sobs as you collapsed into Dean’s arms. He wrapped himself around you as tightly as he could. It felt almost as if he were trying to lift the hurt from you.

“Y/N, I’ll love you for as long as you live. And in here, in this reality, it will feel like an eternity. I can give you everything the other Dean isn’t able to. I can love you so fiercely that you’ll never feel alone again. I can give you the family you’ve always dreamed of. Hell, we are already halfway there.” He gave a half chuckle; tears were now falling from his eyes and fell on top of your head that was cradled against his chest.

Your sobs had slowly changed into silent screams that couldn’t escape past your chest. This Dean was everything you ever wanted. Just listen to this man; you were having a full on mental breakdown in your front lawn and he is cradling you lovingly in his strong arms as he tries to convince you not to leave him. What was the right answer? You were so sure when you walked out into the empty midnight air 15 minutes ago. You knew you had to kill yourself so you could wake up in the real world. The blade was still clutched in your hand, your grip on it so tight that the hilt was cutting into your palm.

Now, however, you were torn. This Dean made you want to stay, more than anything else you’ve ever wanted. The other Winchesters could live without you. Your death out there in their world would hopefully be mourned, but they could keep on after your death. Did you really want to keep going on, pining every night for Dean while he entertained a ridiculous amount of woman just two rooms down from yours? Did you want to go back to spend the rest of your days fighting monsters, followed every damn day by blood and death and sadness? 

What would be so bad about staying here, with a family that needs you, that loves you? How beautiful it would be to live that full happy life with Dean; to watch Charlie grow into a beautiful young lady; to see Sam happily married to Jessica and with children of their own. You were dying anyway. Why not let this be the end for you while you were able to enjoy it. It didn’t matter this life was just a fantasy. Sam could save Dean; it’d actually make everything for the Winchesters easier.

The familiar ghostly whisper blew across your shoulder and in your ears like it had so many times over the past couple days, this time only slightly different. This time, you heard your name. Your name in a familiar baritone you could almost recognize. It blew a little harder against the side of your face.

“Y/N…”

You pulled yourself slowly out of Dean’s hold on you and looked up into his shining eyes, glistening from the tears he was trying to hold back. 

“Momma?” You heard the sweet angelic voice of your daughter from the porch. You turned to look at her standing there, blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders, hair completely disheveled from sleep. “I got scared.”

“Baby, please go back to bed. I’ll be there soon.” You begged Charlie as you tried to turn your body towards her. You looked upon your green eyed beauty for a few seconds before she turned around and disappeared back into the house. An image of Dean, your Dean, the real Dean, flashed for just a second on your porch where your daughter had just stood. He was screaming your name.

The image vanished just as soon as it appeared. The whisper and the breeze had disappeared with the image. A fresh wave of grief washed over your body as you finally knew what had to happen. You turned back to Dean who was still kneeling in front of you, his hands still stroking long warm lines up your arms. You leaned in for another kiss. It was sweet and gentle. It was the perfect kiss. One last time, you pulled away to look into his beautiful green eyes that matched those of the daughter you created together. 

With a loud, guttural scream, you lifted the knife and buried it into your chest


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your choice is made.

“Y/N!” The voice was close, screaming your name in your face as your felt someone pulling at the binding around your wrists. “C’mon Y/N, you’ve got to fight it. Wake up!”

Your eyes were already open but it took a few seconds to take in the images around you. The first thing you saw was those bright green eyes, similar to the ones you were looking at only seconds ago. The only difference was these eyes were scared; they were guarded, angry, and full of contempt just like you always remembered. 

You tried to focus on those green eyes. You tried to find any sign of love or softness or kindness like you saw in the ones you left behind. There was nothing there. You could now see the fine lines and scars on his face. He looked paled from blood loss and being under the effects of the djinn. A small sob escaped your mouth and his eyes widened briefly. 

“Sammy!” He yelled across the room. “She’s waking up. Help me get her down!”

It was only a couple seconds before you felt another set of strong arms behind you, gently lifting your feet off the ground so your arms were no longer pulling on your bindings. Your eyes drifted down to your now flat stomach and another sob escaped. The faint cries coming from you spurred both Winchesters to work faster. Sam supported you by holding you bridal style as Dean finally freed you from the ropes holding you up and then pulling an IV out of your neck.

“Y/N, where does it hurt?” Sam was asking you. All you could manage was to shake your head ‘no’ as tears kept falling down your cheeks. Your quiet silent cries never stopping.

“C’mon Sammy, lets’ get her out of here before another one shows up.” Dean demanded as he started crossing the warehouse, scouting a safe escape. Despite looking like he would kill over at any second, his footing was sure and his steps were steady.

Before long, you could feel the cool night air against your skin and hear the crunch of gravel under the Winchesters boots.

“Give her to me Sammy. You drive.” You could feel the difference of their holds on you as Sam handed you off to Dean. The arms around you changed from warm and safe to hard and unyielding as they clutched you close to the familiar chest you always dreamt of being held against.

Dean fell into the back seat with you as Sam rounded the Impala and crawled behind the wheel. Dean was stroking your hair as Sam made a quick getaway, gravel flying out from the speeding car. He held you tight against his chest until he deemed it to be a safe enough distance away from the warehouse to let you go. He slid you across the seat so your back was against the door, your face turned sideways with your cheek pressed against the cool glass. He carefully searched your body for injuries. His hands were cold and methodical as they brushed over your body and carefully moved bits of clothing to expose your skin. His movements were quick and precise.

You all had made it to a smooth blacktopped road by the time Dean had finished his assessment of you, deeming you ‘fine’. Your tears continued to fall. Fine; that was the exact word Dean used; as if you weren’t completely shattered. He couldn’t see your seams fraying; he couldn’t see that you were falling apart. How on earth could he possibly know you were going to be fine? He had no idea of the life you had given up to be here with the two of them. 

Dean pulled you back into his lap and held you as your body rocked with silent sobs, never knowing how heart-breaking it was to be so close to this Dean; to be so close to the Dean you loved, but didn’t love you back. You closed your eyes and tried to remember what it was like to be held by the one that loved you, to feel him whisper ‘I love you’ against your neck, him fixing breakfast for you in the morning; you tried to remember the little girl that looked so much like him, that didn’t want a baby brother, that was scared of monsters under her bed; you tried to hang on to that world with no monsters. 

It was as a long ride back to the bunker. By the time Sam shut off the engine and after a lot of cathartic crying, you finally were able to stop. Dean pulled you out of the back seat and to your feet. He tried to pull your arm around his shoulder to help you walk in, but you immediately shook him off. You limped towards the bunker as quickly as you could.

Sam came up behind you. “Y/N, if you want to talk about what happened, we can relate to whatever it was you saw while the Djinn had you. Dean was there with you too. If anyone can talk you through this it’s him. He will know what you’re going through.”

“Dean can’t help me.” Your words came out with more venom than you intended. You knew Sam was only trying to help, but just the idea of Dean being able to help you through this crushed you. What you needed was your Dean from your dream to hold you tight and tell you everything would be alright; but you’d never feel him hold you again. You’d never hear him say he loved you again; you’d never hear your daughter giggle ever again; you’d never feel your son moving inside of you ever again. “Nobody can help me.” Your words were soft this time, filled with sadness and pain. “I’m going to go lay down for a while. I think I just need some rest.”

You made your way to your room, moving slower than before. Your heart was breaking with every step. It was almost like every step you took in this reality crushed the other one into tiny jagged pieces that pierced your heart. You tried; you really tried to hold yourself together until you made it to your room, but the tears started falling hard and fast. You tried your damnedest to cling to any sort of numbness or unfeeling emotion, but there was nothing but earth shattering pain and cold. 

Finally you saw the door to your room through blurry, watery eyes. It took a few seconds of fumbling with the door knob before it finally opened. You fell through it and slammed it shut behind you, collapsing against it. Your eyes closed as your entire body started to shake with sobs. This time, you didn’t try to hold them back. Quiet moans accompanied the pain radiating through your body. You curled up in a ball right there in the floor and let the pain flow, seeing green eyes framed with thick lashes behind your closed eyes.

It was unclear how much time had passed before you were able to pick yourself up off the floor and fall into bed. Now in the comfort of your own bed, your familiar, small, cold bed maybe you’d be able to relax. Sleep evaded you. Every time you closed your eyes and started to drift, you were haunted by the feeling of wanting and love and happiness, only to have it ripped violently away from you. Every single time, you’d cry out and break into another fit of sobs, never knowing that on the other side of your door, Dean was sitting in the hallway listening to every noise you made, silent tears falling down his cheeks.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We now find out what Dean experienced while he was under the Djinn's influence

Dean woke up in a brightly lit room, lying in an overly soft bed covered with fluffy pillows of cream and yellow. Now, this isn’t right. He couldn’t recognize anything about this room. Even if he could, he couldn’t explain how he woke up here when he couldn’t remember falling asleep. The last thing he could remember was following you into a dark, cold room. 

Soft music playing somewhere across this place distracted him. He pulled himself up and out of bed, his bare feet met by soft carpet. Quietly, he walked across the room that looked like it had been pulled straight from a better homes magazine. He found a hallway that lead into a large living room scattered with children toys and overstuffed pillows on the furniture. It was warm and inviting in a strangely familiar sort of way. He continued to follow the sound of music through this living room, through a kitchen and into a smaller hallway. There were two doors. The one that was slightly ajar seemed to be where the music was coming from. 

He crept closer to the door, only just now realizing he was without any sort of weapon. What if there was some sort of monster waiting to pounce as soon as he crossed the threshold. He was just about to turn back when he heard your voice. He stopped dead in his tracks. He would have recognized your voice, singing slightly off key, anywhere; no less when you were singing along with one of the few songs he’s heard you sing a hundred times before.

He peeked his head into the room and saw the back of you. You were swaying slightly, singing along to Zepplins’ D’yer Ma’ker. You were staring intently at the wall, as if it were the most interesting wall you’ve ever encountered before. He watched you tilt your head to the side slightly, still singing absentmindedly. You wore a pair of paint splattered overalls, a white tee and had a white bandana wrapped around your head, holding your hair out of your face. 

Dean pushed the door open a little further causing it to creak which pulled you out of your stupor. You whipped your head around and looked straight into his eyes, a broad smile spreading across your face.

“Hey sweetie! Want to help me pick a color for this room?” You turned your attention back to the wall. “I can’t decide what would be best. I like the turquoise, but I also think the navy is good too. Maybe with some gray trim?”

“What?” Was all Dean could manage to get out. 

“Come here and take a look. I’ve painted some patches. Which do you like better for the nursery?”

“Nursery?”

Dean stepped into the room, taking slow, timid steps closer to you.

“Oh, and please don’t tell your mom about the music when we have dinner with them tonight. I promised her that her grandson would only listen to the classical music cd’s she had given me, but since your dad gave me this cd last week, I can’t stop listening to it. Little man really responds to it. Must be part of the Winchester DNA; the love of 70’s rock runs deep.” You looked down to your belly and started rubbing lovingly at your stomach.

“Mom? Dad? What’s this about a nursery?” Dean finally stepped up beside you and saw your protruding stomach stretching the material covering it. None of this was making sense. How were you pregnant? Why were you talking about his parents and music preferences? And how the hell did you both end up in this house? Where the hell was Sammy?

You looked up into his deep green eyes and reached up to cup his face in your soft hand. It was indescribable the feeling of your skin on his. He melted willingly into it.

“You feeling ok today? You don’t look so good. Are you sick?” The concern burning in your eyes actually comforted him. This was a look he was familiar with. But it wasn’t until he looked closer, paid better attention, that he noticed some slightly unsettling differences on your face. You didn’t look quite the same, minus the pregnant belly you were now sporting. Your eyes were brighter than he had ever seen them. There were no scars, no premature wrinkles on your face. You looked generally lighter and more relaxed. He hadn’t ever seen you smile so broadly, as if you didn’t have a worry in the whole world.

“I can call your family, tell them we need to reschedule…”

“No!” Dean interrupted, a little too loud, causing you to pull back slightly, clearly startled before your smile crept back.

“Okay sweetie, calm down.” You stroked his cheek and turned back to the wall. “So, about this little man’s nursery…”

Dean turned his attention to the wall now where there were several patches painted onto the wall. He couldn’t stop his mind from racing. How in the hell did he wake up inside this dream…

That’s when it suddenly clicked for Dean. His stomach dropped through the floor. That’s exactly what this was; a dream. This was a common dream Dean had frequently. Where he and you had a normal life outside of hunting, with a family, doing normal family things; like choosing what color to paint the walls of a nursery with his very pregnant wife. He looked at the different shades of yellow and blue and green, then back to you.

You looked absolutely radiant. This was the happiest Dean had ever seen you for as long as he had ever known you. Your eyes shone with brightness he couldn’t explain, your skin glowed, and he could feel your warmth and love flowing out of you like waves, crashing into him and destroying all of his rational thoughts.

Dean knew this wasn’t real, he knew what the cure was; to kill himself and he would wake up in the real world where everything was dark and painful and miserable. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t hurt him to pretend for a while. Maybe for just a little while, he could live out this dream of domestic bliss with you before he went back to the paralyzing misery awaiting their normal hunting lives.

He was still staring at you, you still staring intently at the wall; your biggest decision of the day was to decide the color of the nursery. Yeah, Dean could pretend for a while longer. 

Dean turned his attention to the wall, thoughtful for a second before he made a suggestion. “I’m partial to the cucumber green.”

He glanced sideways at you. 

“Yeah, I like it too, but the more I think about it, the more I like the navy. But I’m afraid that might be too dark for a baby’s room. I just can’t decide.”

“Well, it’s not a decision we have to make today.”

“Dean, don’t procrastinate. We were supposed to done this weeks ago. My due date is in four days and according to what the doctor said at our last appointment, he could come any day. He’s dropped down and sitting directly on my pelvis. I can feel his large Winchester head trying to fall out of my cervix. I swear to you, being pregnant with Charlie wasn’t this uncomfortable.” 

“Charlie…” Dean started having flashbacks of a beautiful blond haired, green eyed angel. The memories were slightly fuzzy, like a faded dream, but they were warm and soft and filled him with an emotion he had never felt before. It was a sensation so intense it nearly crippled him. Love; unconditional love that filled his chest to the point he thought it would burst.

The less he thought about his life outside of this dream, the more this world seemed to piece together. He could remember things that never actually happened and in the matter of a few seconds, it felt as though this had been his life this whole time. He fell into place with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible.

“Speaking of that sweet angelic daughter of ours, she should be getting off the bus soon, shouldn’t she? What time is it?” You asked without looking away from the wall.

Dean looked down to his watch. “It’s almost 10:45. What time does she usually get home?”

“It’s only a half day at school so the bus should be here about 11:30.”

Dean sauntered closer to you until he was standing directly in front of you, a wicked glint in his eye. He lowered his head and planted a gentle kiss on your lips and you all melted into him, wrapping your arms around his neck to let him support some of your weight. His hands were on your hips, his fingers flexing against the denim material covering them. The kiss was unlike any kiss he’d had before. This kiss was soft, gentle, demanding, yet unrushed. Kissing you was more wonderful than eating a whole pecan pie in his humble opinion. He could stand here all day, lips locked with yours, kneading your soft flesh under his calloused fingers.

“I guess this means we have time to distract ourselves from the nursery until she gets home.” Deans grumbled in his signature low gravelly voice. You shook slightly between his arms as a shiver ran down your spine. Oh man, you were sooooo responsive to his touch. Maybe it was the pregnancy that had your hormones on high alert or if in this life the two of you were just that in tune with each other.

“Dean, I’m disgusting. We can’t do it now. I’m all sweaty and I know I stink. Plus, this big belly would only get in the way.” You looked down at yourself as you tried to pull away from him, but he only pulled you in closer.

“Oh princess, please let me show you how absolutely wrong you are.”

Dean led you into the bedroom he woke in, assuming that it was the room you two shared. For the next thirty minutes, you both shared such an intense pleasure he was positive it had to be sinful. He watched you as you lay panting on your back, collapsing down next to you. You were humming some soft melody that was oddly familiar, but he couldn’t quite place. He tried to remember where he had heard it before, but before it came to him he was startled by an alarm from your cellphone.

“That would be the alarm to remind me to go out and wait for Charlie to get off the bus. It’ll be here any minute.” You tried to hoist yourself up out of bed, but couldn’t quite manage; struggling like a turtle that had been flipped onto its back.

Dean quickly helped you to your feet. “Let me take care of it today while you get dressed.”

You quickly kissed the back of his hand that was still holding onto yours. “I don’t know how I ever snagged a man like you, Dean Winchester.”

“You have no idea how backwards you are right now. I still don’t understand why you’d settle for someone like me.” Dean kissed the top of your head before pulling away to pull on a pair of jeans and a tee shirt.

He could hear you chuckle before you laughed out, “I have incredibly low standards,” before disappearing into the bathroom.

Dean walked out the door and down the short driveway to the edge of the street, waiting for the school bus to drop off his daughter. He stood in silence, looking at their perfect suburban neighborhood. He couldn’t wrap his head around how different their lives were here. It could still happen for the two of you, if he could ever convince you to settle down and live this kind of life with him; which brought about an unsettling thought.

Would you ever feel the same way for him that he did for you? Sure, he’d noticed some worried glances you’d throw his way, and the relief when he would come back mostly in one piece from a hunt. You would always make his favorite pie when you all had a day or two off. It was so incredibly easy to be around you in the real world; the two of you were best friends. You’d help him tease Sammy mercilessly. He knew you loved him and cared for him, but would it ever be the same way that he felt for you?

The more he thought about it, the more wrong this life felt, this dream he was in. Just then, he saw a flash, an image out of place in this reality. It was you, the other you; the you from the real world. You were hanging from a post, rope bound around your wrists above your head. The image more vivid, this dream world starting to shimmer until it faded completely. Dean found himself hanging the same way as you, his feet barely scraping across the floor. There was a terrible tension in his shoulders as they pulled with all his weight.

“Y/N” he tried to scream but instead it only came out as a scratchy whisper. He cleared his throat, ignoring the burn. “Wake up!” He urged, still his voice only just above a whisper. “Wake up!” He pulled against his own weight, trying to judge if he could somehow get himself loose. 

A loud crash sounded from across the room, something metal clambering to the concrete floor. He saw a man covered in tattoos, a Djinn, make his way across the room. 

“Y/N, wake up! Wake up!” Dean grunted more urgently this time, struggling to get free again. He didn’t even have time to blink before the Djinn was standing nose to nose with him, its’ eyes glowing an eerie blue as it gently swipe its hand across Dean’s forehead, causing his eyes to roll back and darkness to envelope his senses.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's apple pie, domestic bliss life!

Dean woke up, finding himself on a couch in his dream living room, a beautiful green eyed little girl lying on his chest, breathing deeply. How did this happen? Last he remembered he was waiting for the bus…

Then he saw you. He saw the real you hanging unconscious in a cold room. That was reality, seeping through to his dream. But if he woke up, how did he end up back in this dream? Blue eyes glowed behind his eyelids. That’s right; it was the Djinn.

“I swear, it’s like she’s a short, female version of you, Dean Winchester.” Your voice startled him back to this dream. He looked over to see you leaning against the doorway, your overalls having been traded now for a modest sundress that flowed around your pregnant belly. You had a smirk on your face as you looked down on him and the sleeping child on his chest. “I’d wager that the two of you would be able to sleep through a hurricane if it came storming through this very living room.”

“What time is it?” Dean asked as he rubbed at his eyes.

“It’s only a little past 3.” You waddled your way through the room and plopped down into a plush chair across from the couch. “Our family isn’t supposed to start showing up until about 6 so we’ve got plenty of time if you want to finish your nap.”

“Who all’s coming over tonight?”

“It’ll be your parents, Sam and Jess and of course Johnny. Then my parents and my brother and his family are coming over too. You were the one who wanted to host this barbeque. Don’t you remember? Are you sure you are feeling alright?” 

“Yeah sweetheart, never better.” Dean relaxed into the cushions again, rubbing his hands over the back of the small sleeping child on top of him.

He looked over to see you smiling sweetly at him. In this moment, this exact moment, whatever look was shining on your face, Dean swore you never looked more beautiful in your entire life. He was remembering you pregnant with Charlie, crying in your closet wearing nothing but your bra and underwear surrounded by heaps of your clothes around you. He remembered when you confessed to him that you felt unattractive because none of your clothes fit you anymore. Dean collapsed down next to you, pulling you into his lap. He pulled your head to his shoulder as you continued to bawl into his shirt. One of his arms wrapped around your back while the other hand started to rub your newly expanding belly.

“Of course your clothes aren’t going to fit you anymore. They probably won’t ever again. You’ve read the books; you had to know this was going to happen. You, lovely and perfect and beautiful, are now growing a new person inside of you; a little person that’s half you and half of me. You are giving me the greatest gift anyone could ever ask for. You may not feel pretty right now, Y/N, but I swear that you’ve never been more beautiful. You aren’t losing anything sweetheart. The stretchmarks and the growling belly and the boobs, it only adds to what makes you attractive. You are making the perfect home for this baby. And he’s going to need a lot of room because us Winchesters have never been small babies.” 

Dean didn’t know the right words to say to make you feel better, but whatever he said must have done the trick because you were no longer sobbing into his shirt. He could hear you chuckle against his chest as you wiped tears from your face.

“I’m sorry. I know I’m being stupid about this. I was just trying to find something to wear over to your parent’s house tonight and everything makes me look like a whale.” You wiped a few more tears away. “Besides Winchester, what makes you think it’s going to be a boy? Your mom swears it’s a girl.”

“My mom has no idea what she’s talking about. The only female Winchesters in our family have been married in. Besides, Sammy can’t be the only one that has a boy.” You laughed against him, repositioning yourself so you were straddling him; your legs wrapping around his waist and your arms weaving behind his neck. “And if it you’re having trouble finding something to fit, I know Mom would love to take you shopping for maternity clothes.”

“I’ll talk to her about it tonight.” You kissed the side of his face. “Thank you for being the most incredible husband ever.” You tried to push yourself up out of his lap, but his arms held you fast against him; squeezing you tightly against his chest.

“Thank you for settling for dumbass mechanic.” Dean grumbled as he buried his face in your neck.

You started laughing before kissing him all over his face.

“Dean?” You asked him, the now you, pulling him back to the present.

“Yeah?”

“I was just saying it’s incredible how much you look alike when you both are asleep. You both do the pouty lip thing I love so much.” 

“Is that right?” He chuckled.

“Maybe with this one, he might actually take after me a little bit.” You were rubbing your belly affectionately. 

Dean smiled, thinking about a son that would take after you and how blessed he was in this life to have the perfect family.

Later that night, Dean was in the kitchen with Sam and their dad, all sharing a bottle of Jim Beam, while your family and the female Winchesters were still gathered around the dinner table. He could hear you and your brother going after each other, some kind of stupid argument causing you to bump heads.

“…c’mon Dennis, you can’t be serious. How on earth could mullet rock compare to 70’s rock? You’ve got Zepplin, the Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, The Beatles, Eagles….I mean, Don Henley…there is not even a contest!” You were raising your voice, getting overly excited about which genre of rock n roll was better.

“Give me a break!” Your brother was just as heated as you were. That was the thing with the two of you; you and your brother were just as close with each other as he was with Sam, but since he was your twin, it seemed you always had to differ on every subject matter imaginable. “Most of those could also be classified as 80s too. You don’t have Poison or Van Halen or even Guns n Roses! This is ridiculous! How can you even pretend you have a leg to stand on?”

“That’s the funniest joke I’ve ever heard in my life!” You huffed before laughing sarcastically at him. “For you to sit there and pretend that they could even…”

The rest of the argument was drowned out by your dad coming into the kitchen to join Dean. He silently held out his tumbler, asking for another drink of Beam. He shot the whole drink back before holding out the glass for another. Dean chuckled, but obliged willingly.

“If you could imagine, it was so much worse when they were children.” Your dad grumbled out, trying to hide an amused smile.

“I don’t know if I can. I mean, I live with Y/N now and she’s just as hard-headed and hot-blooded as the day I met her.” Dean responded light heartedly.

“You have no idea how many times her mother and I were called to come pick the two of them up at school. They were always fighting.”

“With each other?” Sam asked, laughing before taking another sip from his glass.

“Mostly.” Your dad nodded. “But there were also a few times where some boy had pulled on Y/N’s pig tails and Dennis would send a right hook straight to the boys jaw. And when some smart ass bully tried to take Dennis’ lunch money, Y/N broke the poor kid’s nose.” Your dad smiled warmly at the memory. He took another sip from his glass before he continued. “They may fight like cats and dogs, but anytime one of them were threatened, they always had each other’s backs. It used to drive their mom crazy, but I found it oddly endearing. It’s all I could ever ask for; to look after each other.”

The four of them raised their glasses, John offering a small “Amen Brother!” before they all finished their drinks. They listened to you and your brother continuing to argue from across the room.

“So Dean, has Y/N listened to the cd I gave her?” John asked Dean thoughtfully.

“Yeah, she was listening to that this morning. What’s up with that anyway? Why can’t we tell mom?”

“You know your mother, Dean. She’s convinced that classical music stimulates brain development and healthy growth and some other mumbo jumbo she read in some parenting book while she was pregnant with you. Personally I don’t put any stock in it, but look at how you and your brother turned out. Sammy here graduated top of his class from Harvard Law School and you are the best damn mechanic in the tri state area.” John was thoughtful for a minute. “You know what, maybe she’s on to something. She always was smarter than me.” John smiled and looked to Mary lovingly. “If you’ll excuse me boys, I’m going to go kiss the love of my life.”

Dean looked on at the scene in front of him. This was the life he had always wanted for you, for his brother, and for himself. Everyone alive, enjoying the perks of having their family around them. Both of your parents were alive and enjoying their grandchildren while impatiently waiting for more. This was Dean’s definition of perfection. Everyone all in one place, laughing, smiling; even the stupid fight you were still having with your brother. 

He looked at you, your cheeks flushed as you were still arguing with Dennis. Your hair which had been styled and curled to perfection was now pulled back into a loose bun on top of your head while stray pieces flew around your face as you’d whip your head back and forth in disagreement. You stood suddenly, your finger pointed angrily in your brother’s face before suddenly you stopped mid-sentence. You clutched at your stomach before collapsing back into the chair with a gasp.

The room went completely silent. All eyes were on you while you stared only at Dean. He hurdled across the counter separating the kitchen from the dining room and was by your side in the manner of a few seconds; panic flaring throughout his entire body.

Your eyes were still trained on his, sudden pain fading into excitement before a smile spread across your face. 

“Dean, I think it’s time.” You huffed out as soon as you caught your breath. “The baby’s coming!”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ending. Hopefully this'll wrap everything up in a pretty little bow

He ran from the room, grabbing the two go bags you had packed weeks ago. Dean could hear chairs scoot across the floor as everyone started to move. Mary was by your side, whispering soft comforting words into your ear as she helped pull you up to your feet, your mom on your other side. John had Johnny on his hip while your father picked up Charlie. Even Dennis was scurrying around the dining room, scrambling to help his wife find their children’s shoes. 

Dean was running around, scurrying into various rooms, looking to see if there was anything they might need that hadn’t been packed. He finally caught up with you outside; you were being ushered into the passenger seat of a black jeep; your jeep. You were panting, your face scrunched slightly as you were trying to breathe through the pain. John and your father had packed the children into his parent’s vehicle, everyone else scattering into separate cars, leaving just you and Dean in the jeep.

“I don’t mean to bring this up right now, but I told you we should have painted the nursery already.”

Dean looked over to you, stunned that this was what you were worried about. But of course that would be what you were concerned about. Because here, in this dream, that was how your mind worked. You didn’t have to worry about monsters or things that went bump in the night. Your biggest fear was not having picked a color for the nursery and it being painted before the baby was brought home.

The next several hours were a blur of chaos and excitement. The whole family took turns entertaining the children, running out for food, and when night fell they all went home except for Mary. Dean’s mother had been in and out of the delivery room all day and all night. You loved your mother and she was an amazing woman, but there was something about the blood and the screaming that she couldn’t handle; opting to watch Charlie for the night instead.

With Dean on one side of you, his mother on the other, they each whispered words of encouragement and chants of ‘push’ and ‘breathe’. It was past 2 in the morning when through all your screaming and the tears and exhaustion that Dean heard a sharp cry of a baby. He tried to look, but your grip on his arm held him in place. A couple more pushes and they were pulling on his arm to cut the cord. The baby was flopped onto your chest, his cries now matching yours. Tears leaked down your face, so incredibly happy to finally be holding your baby in your arms. Dean looked down at the two of you in amazement. Dean felt a wetness streaming down his own face before he realized he was crying. 

Mary crossed the room to Dean and wiped a tear from his cheek. She pulled him down to her into the tightest hug she could manage. Both of them started crying happily as they watched you stroke your son’s back.

Dean couldn’t imagine ever leaving this life. There was nothing, past or present that could pull him away from this dream world he now accepted as his new reality. Watching you adore the son the two of you had created, he could see everything this future had to offer. He could see the two of you grow old together, watching your children grow, possibly having more, a dozen more if this is how it felt to love them. 

He could never have this kind of love in the other world. He didn’t even have a future there. He knew the way life would end for him. He would be alone, bloody and broken. That’s how all hunters died. There was no growing old and no families. He looked at you, his chest felling as if it could explode from the new wave of emotions washing over him. 

Just as you looked up to him beaming, beautiful as always even through hours of labor, the room shimmered. Oh no.

No, no, no, no, no, no. He knew what this was. This world was going to fade and he was about to wake up in the warehouse. No, no, no, no, no. He wanted this one. This is what he chose. He’s staying here with his babies; where he had his parents and his family and you. He screwed his eyes shut and dropped to his knees, his hands fisting in his hair. He could still hear his mother’s voice, concerned at your actions. And you, clearly panicking from your hospital bed. He could hear the worry in both your voices as they faded.

“Dean” a voice whispered in his ear.

He tried his damnedest to cling to this this life. He started praying to anyone listening to leave him alone. He needed to be here. His life was here now. This is where he was needed; with you and your daughter and your new born baby. “Dean” the voice was louder this time. Finally the hospital room faded away and he was in the dank warehouse with the real you again. “Dean.”

Sam was calling his name, begging him back. He could Sam’s big warm hands on his face. Then they were gone. He could feel the heat from Sam’s closeness as he was working with the bindings around his wrists. Fuck. Of course nobody was there to listen to his prayer. If he kept his eyes closed, he could still almost see you lying in the bed with your newborn on your chest. 

Shit. Y/N. She was here too. Fuck, how could he have been so stupid and foolish? Here he was, trying to kill himself to stay inside some fantasy when he should have been trying to save you. But of course not, because he was foolish. 

“Y/N” Dean groaned. “Is she still alive?”

“Yes, she’s still breathing.” Sam’s voice was frantic as he struggled with the ropes holding Dean up. “Let me get you down…” then Dean crumpled to the floor, the rope having been cut. His body felt broken and exhausted but no serious or lasting injuries.

He struggled to his feet, his strength slowly coming back to him. He didn’t speak another word as Sam rushed to your side and tried rousing you awake. He couldn’t focus on what Sam was saying to you, only that he was pulling at your ropes. 

As soon as Dean found his feet, he was flying through the air and crashing into a wall. Then everything went black.

He came to, and Sam was across the room. Dean’s body moved off instinct. He couldn’t remember anything in detail about leaving the warehouse or the ride back to the bunker. He knew you weren’t talking. He remembered you sobbing. The heartbreaking cries when you came to were like a knife in his gut. 

He held you, stroked your hair, tried to comfort you the best he could, but he just couldn’t seem to figure out how. You let him hold you though. But you never spoke. He held you like he would’ve held onto you in his dream. It felt almost right; almost like he was holding his wife instead of his hunting partner. It was almost enough to keep him from breaking down. He was hanging on by a thread, a tiny sliver of string that was still holding himself together.

After what seemed like an eternity in the car, holding you against him as you cried, you stopped. Your breathing was still jagged but there were no more tears. Sam parked in the garage of the bunker. Dean opened the door and tried to help you out. He made to pull your arm over his shoulder to carry you to your room, but you immediately shook him off. You wouldn’t even look him in the face as you hurried away from him. He could feel a knife in his gut when you retreated from him as fast as you could.

And here it was. Here was his reality. He could close his eyes and pretend all he wanted, but you would never love him like he loved you. You’d never want this family he had dreamed up. Dean collapsed against the back of the impala, a heavy weight settling into his chest. He watched Sam catch up to you, saying something quiet to you before you shrugged him off too. He dropped his head until he heard your voice shout at Sam.

“Dean can’t help me.” His head shot back up. You weren’t paying him any attention, clearly unaware that he was close enough to hear the altercation. You continued on to your room while Sam stayed back. He started back towards the Impala, clearly intent on helping Dean to his room. 

Dean pushed himself up and started walking towards Sam.

“Before you ask, and I know you’re going to, because you always do, I’m fine.” Dean patted his younger brother on the shoulder and he walked past him. Without another word, Dean headed off to his own room, pulled off his dirty clothes and collapsed in his bed. It was another hour or so, he wasn’t sure because he didn’t look at the clock, and he pulled himself out of bed, unable to rest anymore.

He’s not sure how it happened, but he soon found himself sitting outside your door, listening to you wail late into the night. He could hear you mourn the loss of whatever dream life you had imagined inside the drug induced coma the Djinn had created for you. He could almost feel your anguish as he also mourned the loss of his dream family. 

He kept trying to remind himself that none of it was real, but no matter how many times he had repeated it, he couldn’t shake how real the love he felt for his family. He couldn’t shake how warm it felt when his mom embraced him, or the joy he felt listening to you argue with your brother that you actually had lost after your parents died. The worst of it though, the hardest fucking thing he couldn’t let go of, was how bad he still craved that life with you.

Your sobs had subsided momentarily. Dean looked up at your door, fighting with every fiber of his being to barge into your room and tell you everything he felt. He wanted to kiss your lips and caress your face with a need he couldn’t explain. He wanted to take you far away from this life, marry you, and have that dream life with you.

The only problem would be to convince you to go with him. And then there was Sam. How could he ever leave Sam to start a family with you? 

That’s when it dawned on him; he could kill himself imaging all the possibilities and what-ifs. He knew that if he left the hunting life, Sam would absolutely leave with him. Sam only stayed because of him. How many times had Sam expressed his desire to start a normal life? And what better time to start than the present? 

He pushed himself up off the floor, wiped whatever tears were left on his face. He straightened himself up to his full height, puffed out his chest and walked forward to knock on your door.

“Go away” you mumbled, your face must have been buried into your pillow.

Dean opened the door slowly; peeking his head in to see you curled up on the bed on top of your covers. He walked over beside your bed and climbed in behind you. Moving as slowly as possible, giving you more than enough time to tell him to get lost, he curled himself around you, wrapping you as tightly to him as possible. Your cries subsided slightly although tears still ran down your face.

Confused as to what was happening you carefully turned over in his arms so the two of you were nose to nose. Dean had stopped breathing, waiting to see what your reaction would be to him being in your bed.

Slowly, ever so slowly, you moved your face closer and closer and closer to his. He could feel your breath blow across his face. You locked eyes for maybe a second before you crashed your lips to his. It took only another second for him to return it with enthusiasm. 

Slowly the pain of both your dreams started to ebb, making way for the possibility of what your futures would be…together.


End file.
